solopaddler

Harold you don't need minnows, especially in June!!! I would however bring a flat of worms packed in bedding. I always do, and oftentimes they make all the difference even on remote waters. I often troll worm harnesses and bottom bouncers when prospecting for walleye, there's not much better. As well I'll usually always tip my jig with half a worm when fishing for walleye. Generally up there all I ever use are 3" twister tails in a variety of colors with either 1/4 or 3/8oz heads. Beyond the worm harnesses and jigs, the walleye will be shallow at that time and you'll find success slow trolling a variety of floating stickbaits or small shallow diving Shad Raps or Wally Divers. For pike you'll need both weedless and non weedless spoons. Weedless, I'd go with 3/4 and 11/8oz Johnson Silver Minnows in both gold and silver. I'll tip the silver ones with a 4" white twister tail and the gold ones with a chartreuse twister tail. Non weedless spoons I'm VERY partial to Doctor spoons in the larger sizes. My favourite color is probably copper/orange, but yellow five of diamonds is good too. Some 3/4-1oz spinnerbaits, some inline bucktail spinners in the same size, some more subtle baits like oversized Husky Jerks in the Tennessee Shad Color, and some oversized topwaters like Zara Spooks are all good for pike too. When the pike are neutral or to use as a follow up bait, I like to have a 2nd rod rigged with an oversized plastic bait like an 8" white or black reaper. Sometimes the soft plastics will save the day! There's a few things that I'd consider "must haves" for each boat: A depth finder, a cradle to handle the pike,(much better than having a huge oversized net in the way), extra long pliers, hook cutters, heavy duty jaw spreaders, and most importantly gloves of some kind for handling the fish. The Normark fillet gloves are great.

Well duh! <iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/vYEXzx-TINc" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

Thanks for posting that! It's kind of funny though... I was paddling down the Allanwater river heading into Wabakimi lake a few years back. At the time much of the shoreline on both sides of the river was on fire. At one point, because it was impossible to line the canoe through the rapids and stay in the river, I did an 800 meter portage right through the forest fire. The first trip wasn't bad as I was carrying the canoe and my upper body was protected. The gel coat on the outside was blistering and peeling though... I had to go back for my second pack and have to say that was interesting LOL! Anyhow long story short I made it to the lake, paddled directly across then ironically camped on the first major point on the left at the mouth of the Ogoki river outlet. Same spot? That night I stayed up late and watched the entire south shore of Wabakimi become engulfed in flames. Quite a show.

Those eggs look like they'd tie up nicely in chartreuse for steelhead. Hmmmm..........

Perfect little outing Ryan. Can someone say shrinkage?

Hey now that's pretty cool! Would be nice to see a viable fishery on Simcoe.

I had to think about that for a second. You know I totally forgot about patching the boat with foam and duct tape the last time we chased brookies LOL! Third times a charm! (I'll bring a Costco sized roll of tape this August. )

Marvin I can only wish I could make a move like that. That spot is absolutely stunning, you're a lucky man! (the fish were pretty nice too. )

Well I was gonna say...you could roll about a million teeny tiny microscopicically small dubes and pass them out to all the bugs. Get 'em so screwed up they don't want to bite. Only problem is what happens when they get the munchies?!! Good luck in the park Trev. Would love to get together at some point.

I think I'll pass this one off to Highdrifter.

It's funny how some threads will capture peoples imagination and compel them to respond. It's either an interesting angling tale, or more usually something more mundane like "what's your favourite brand of cereal?" LOL! I'm glad you guys enjoyed the story! Missed you on this one buddy. Possibly Craig, but if you carry the canoe, you'd also have to carry the light pack (about 60lb's). I've made it before. Sliced paper thin and marinated in lime juice and various spices it's pretty amazing. Most likely even better. The water will be warmer, there'll be more hatches and they'll be more active. Just make sure you bring lots of bug dope.

I'm gratified that you guys enjoyed the story. Some of the comments lead me to believe that perhaps I should take a bit more time with the writing, and I mean that in a good way. As per usual I whipped off the report in about an hour at work last night. Anyhow thanks for the comments gents. A chestnut prospector? Ouch! As far as the cart goes, it's fine. Apparantly if you pull a couple of pins out you can rotate the pads upwards, higher than the wheels and lock them in place. Who knew? You know what? All the fish were very similar in size, they were all beauties. That last pic of Fidel does make the fish look extra big though LOL! I'm pretty sure you're right. Brad, at some point we need to fish together! So....remember that other lake I told you about? It's a bit of a longer drive, a bit harder to access, but so loaded with fish. Let's do it! HAHA! Thanks Nemo! Would love to hear some more detail. You're a man after my own heart sir.

Glad you enjoyed fellas, and Mike, anytime you feel up to it let me know.

In fishing, especially brook trout fishing, there are never any guarantees and from time to time I've been known to follow a hunch. An offhand remark by the kid pumping my gas, a chance conversation with a fellow tripper, or simply staring at a map for hours and deciding that a certain lake needed to be fished for no particular reason. Regardless of the inspiration oftentimes chasing trout takes a giant leap of faith. Sometimes it pays off, many times it doesn't. My tripping partner Fidel was blissfully ignorant of my lake choosing criteria, relying solely on my perceived experience to lead us to fish. Of course I said nothing to temper the lads enthusiasm. 15 years my junior and full of the boundless energy of a youthful sherpa, I had to keep his spirits up. I had decided upon a particularly remote lake with over 5km of portaging required to access it. You do know what they say right? The quality of the fishing rises in direct proportion to the difficulty required to access it. Well...usually it does. Anyhow I'd heard rumours that the trail was in good shape and decided to try and utilize my canoe cart for as long as we could. It's always easier pulling canoe and gear in on a cart rather than carrying...usually. We were well into our 4th hour of hauling when the kid began to falter, "Are you sure we're headed the right way?", "I'm not sure how much longer I can take this!" The countless deadfalls, muddy bog holes and seemingly endless uphill climbs weren't helping matters. "Don't worry, one way or another we'll make it, trust me!" I said this in between gigantic gulps of air and with sweat streaming down my brow. I have to admit I was starting to get slightly worried. By my reckoning we should have been at the lake over an hour ago. Somewhere I was certain we had taken a wrong turn. This particular part of the Park you see is interlaced with a network of old logging roads, park roads, and portage trails, many times overlapping. I was reasonably certain that about an hour previously we should have zigged instead of zagged and now here we were: early evening with the sun sinking low in the horizon and the temperature dropping fast. I made an executive decision at that point to ditch the cart and carry our stuff in on a rough trail that headed west. With our strength waning faster than the weak spring sunshine we were overwhelmingly relieved to stumble upon the east shoreline of the lake 15 minutes later. Tired or not we hustled to launch the canoe and load our gear. Our sole priorities now being find a campsite, light a fire and cook some food. It's hard to describe exactly what transpired next. Suffice it to say we were dealt a crushing blow. As I prepared to slide the canoe into the lake we both gasped in horror. Apparantly the carts wheels had been rubbing on the underside of the canoe, enough that they'd worn two perfect tire shaped holes into the underside of the canoe. Now normally this could be overcome quite easily with duct tape which I always have on hand. Unfortunately I failed to pack any this time. "What do we do now?" The kid grouched. His spirits were finally being crushed... I was truly at a loss for a moment then realized that in all probability there was another group already camped on the lake. According to the Park reservation line another party was slated to be camped on the lake at the same time. Fidel stayed behind, as in his words "There's no need for both of us to drown!". Meanwhile I jammed a lifejacket as best as I could into the holes, and with a knee pressing down on each of them I paddled off alone in search of help. The wind was brisk from the north as I skated across the lake and around a mainlake point. I was taking on a bit of water, but not enough to stop me yet. I picked up the pace instantly relearning long lost skills as I leaned into the side of the boat and pulled my paddle blade deeper and faster. In a protected cove exactly where I expected them to be I saw the smoke from a campfire and a large group of guys milling around. Turns out they were a truly fantastic group of individuals and were more than happy to help. They pulled my lame canoe up onto shore, helped me out and after a minute of explaining on my part they went to work. One of the guys handed me a stiff drink and I watched while another opened a pack and pulled out several rolls of tape. He could have opened a duct tape store. Within minutes they'd dried the boat inside and out and applied two different layers of tape to both sides. Yes indeed, I do believe that sometimes a higher power watches over us. Before leaving to collect Fidel and our gear I snapped this quick pic of our new friends. What a great bunch of guys and truly kindred spirits! I thanked them profusely before departing. If not for them I really have no idea what we'd have done. To say Fidel was happy is a bit of an understatement. Deliriously flabbergasted might be more apt. We wasted no time loading the boat and in short order we found an open campsite, pulled in and set up shop. In no time at all we had a roaring blaze going, dinner on the stove, and a couple of drinks poured. The winds died down and we enjoyed a truly spectacular, albeit short, Algonquin evening. When the sun finally sank below the horizon it quickly became unbearably cold. With the temperature slated to dip to minus 11 it was a good thing we'd stoked the furnace with a big meal. Regardless I think we'd have both slept soundly curled up under a bush. We were whipped. The next morning after some seriously strong java and a bit of food we were eager to fish. It was after all opening day. As a young lad of 9 or 10 opening day held more magic for me than Christmas morning. I'd spend the months leading up to it daydreaming of what was to come. Of course back then we didn't fish for trout before the opener. These days with extended seasons, plenty of year round opportunities, and the means to fish them the opener has lost a bit of its luster. Still the excitement is still there, the flames just need to be fanned now and again. It was opening day and we were on a wild brook trout lake deep in the interior of Algonquin Park. That was enough for me. We quickly pushed off and began to work the lake. Despite the minus temps the sun was shining brightly and our spirits were soaring. It was a beauty of a lake too, typically tannin stained, rocky, and ringed with countless fallen trees, usually a surefire hotspot for spring brookies. Fidel was the first to connect. Dangling a small plastic shad bait next to an enormous fallen cedar at the end of a long cast, a chunky trout shot out from underneath and hammered his lure right beside the boat. I struck next with another healthy specimen that hit a #2 perch colored E.G.B. spoon as I fluttered it past a giant boulder. From that point on it was fairly consistent with a total of 12 gorgeous chunky brookies coming to the net. Fidel led the way with 7 all on his favourite plastic bait. Picture taking wasn't a huge priority for us on this day, in fact I don't think Fidel snapped a single one so we have mostly memories of this truly great opener. Considering all the strife we endured getting in the previous day we were more than satisfied when we headed in early evening to stoke the fire and fry up a couple of trout. I put the blade to two of the chunkier specimens and was simply awed by the flesh: bright orange and firm, I believe we could have eaten it raw. Dusted in flour then sauteed in butter with some fresh dill and a bit of lemon pepper, it truly doesn't get any better! While I puttered around the stove cooking our dinner and stoking the fire Fidel, keener that he is refused to give up. He rigged his rod with a float, split shot, hook and worm and lobbed it out. "Buddy, you're wasting your time!" I yelled over from the fire, "It's way too shallow out in front of our camp!" Thankfully the lad ignored me and proceeded to land 6 healthy fish before dinner was ready. Here's the first for posterities sake. <iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/Hfkunc_ODzM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe> I was incredibly happy for him considering what I'd put him through, and I have to say his excitement is infectious! I enjoyed the show from my perch near the fire, drink in hand, and honestly couldn't imagine a more perfect end to the day. The next morning we caught a couple more fish, fittingly one each, before we packed up and headed out. Thankfully everything from that point on was anticlimactic. We found the actual portage trail and carried rather than carted our way out. Fidel had the heavy pack with the cart bungeed on top and I carried the lighter pack and canoe. We made incredible time as well I thought, traversing the entire 5 plus kilometer length in 11/2 hours. It's nice to know I still have it in me. Big thanks goes out to Fidel (Highdrifter on the board). Sir you are an outstanding young man and a true pleasure to trip with. It's not often I run across someone like Fidel with the same sensibilities as mine. You're a good man and a real trooper, 'till next time buddy. Cheers, Mike

It's funny you say that Harold. I remember times when oddly shaped pieces of driftwood were strangely attractive LOL! I remember one time I was on the Albany River about to ascend the Attwood River when I ran into a group of natives from Fort Hope fishing out of 3 Lund boats. In one of the boats was the chief of Fort Hope and his wife. What I found ironically funny, the chief was aghast when I told him I was on day 47 of a 65 day solo trip. "I'd never do something like that, you're crazy!" They were quite gracious though, offering to share there food with me as they were about to cook up some pork chops for dinner. I politely declined but said if they happened to have a 19 year old blonde nympho in the bottom of their boat I'd take one. Well I guess I tickled their funny bones. I set up camp about a km away and for the next 11/2 hours they'd spontaneously burst into hysterical laughter about every 15 minutes. In all seriousness there were very very few times on any of those lengthy solo expeditions where I actually felt lonely. I've felt much more alone in the city surrounded by mass humanity.

All jokes aside, yes. I more or less spent the ages of 19-32 paddling solo all over NW Ontario. I worked nothing but crappy jobs just long enough to finance my next expedition. Many years I was in the bush from May 'till September...

Personally I didn't pursue girls at all when I was younger. Was always too busy fishing or paddling. For me at least females just got in the way of what I really wanted to do. I had the occasional girl pursue me...but I put zero effort into it until I reached the age of 32.

Sorry it didn't go as planned Miro. Small tip: When it's that cold outside consider using some kind of "truckers bottle" in the tent rather than crawling out into that brutal cold. I have a small widemouth nalgene that I use for just such emergencies. (note the use of the word "widemouth" ). Even a large zip lock works great. Too bad about your luck, I'm sure you'll do better next time.

It's been a while, but back when I lived in Port Carling and wanted to impress a girl I'd bring her to Shamrock Lodge for dinner. http://www.shamrocklodge.com/dining.html

Thanks Roy, that image will be impossible to erase from my brain now.

Wow, now that is cool! Very nice bass gentlemen, and welcome to the board Scott! Nice rod as well, impressive work! The CTS steelhead rod blanks are very popular here in Ontario, I've often thought about trying one of the fly rods. Cheers

C'mon everybody, sing along! <iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/8F1VzJWU0lM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>

Awesome Dan, very inspiring! It wasn't that long ago I was an avid runner. Was regularly pulling off a sub 38 min 10K then I stopped, let everything slide, lost all my latent fitness and I'm shadow of the man I used to be LOL! Been thinking of starting again. I've been doing 4K off and on with the dog since Feb pretty easily so I'm feeling fairly good about it. Keep it up bud, it will change your life.

Yeah what the other guys said....assuming of course you're a resident of Ontario.

Wow, well done gentlemen! Ryan that's a real gem you've got there, there's not too many ponds around with trout of that calibre.